In The End
by K-Lie
Summary: Another romantic, dramatic fanfic where Satine doesn't die after Opening Night. Christian and Satine's life after.
1. In The End

Author's Note --- All right. This is yet another story where Satine didn't die at the end of Moulin Rouge. But who would wanna read one where she does? Those are depressing! Anyway, no, I'm not the oh-so-talented Baz. I am not God. Mr. Luhrman owns everything. So ya can't sue me!  
  
  
  
In The End  
  
  
  
The curtain fell, leaving the audience out front cheering madly. The night was over. Spectacular Spectacular had been a success; no one had fallen on their butts or made a fool out of themselves (out of the actors, that is; the Duke doesn't count.), and Satine was in Christian's arms once again.  
  
Everyone backstage was hugging, kissing, and congratulating their fellow actors. All Christian wanted was to hold Satine, and bask in the warm knowledge that she loved him. But, every time they were left alone, another small swarm of people pulled them apart, everyone wanting to congratulate the writer and lead actress. Satine sent a knowing glance towards Christian, her eyes assuring him she'd make it up to him. And, as the crowd began to disperse around them, Zidler's jolly voice erupted around them.  
  
"Everyone, hurry up! It's time for curtain call! Narcoleptic Argentinean, Satine, and I last!" He paused, leaning down as someone said something to him. "Oh yes, and Christian. Everyone else, get in your places!"  
  
The remaining four were ushered back to where they couldn't be seen as the curtain raised, and the other actors took their bows. Soon, Christian, Satine, Harold, and the Narcoleptic Argentinean were hurried onstage after the others, and the audience erupted into a chaotic frenzy of cheering. The four actors took each other's hands and bowed, causing yet even more commotion from the audience. After nearly ten minutes of encore, the curtains fell for the final time that evening.  
  
Backstage, they were once more smothered with people, and Satine had to clasp onto Christian's hand to keep from losing him, as he pushed forth through people, leading them out of the Moulin Rouge and back towards his garret.  
  
As they stepped out of the Moulin Rouge, Satine let out a relieved sigh, still following behind Christian. "It's over. I'm so glad it's over," she whispers, almost too softly to be heard. But Christian responded. "Yes, it's all done. You're finally going to become a famous actress. You're going to be a star."  
  
As they entered Christian's garret, Satine immediately felt the swarm of emotions overwhelm her. Sure, everything was great now. But still, she knew how badly she had hurt Christian. She knew how she deceived him must have killed him inside… It certainly killed her. "Christian," she murmurs softly, having to choke back a sob. "I'm so sorry…"  
  
At her apology, Christian reaches his arms out to her, wrapping her in his warm embrace. He says nothing for a moment, just too happy to have her in his arms. He takes a deep breath of her perfume, before using a hand to lift her chin so she will look into his eyes. "Satine, it's alright now. Everything's all right. You're okay, I'm okay. We're together. I forgive you for what you did. It doesn't matter anymore. The Duke is gone. He'll never hurt you again," he says, smiling softly into her sad face. "You hurt me. That's obvious, and I'm not denying it. And, I guess, after tonight I can see your reason. But none of that matters. I love you, Satine."  
  
At the sound of his voice forgiving her, loving her despite what she put him through, she smiles, allowing herself to just melt in his hold. However, she is soon forced to let go, as Christian suddenly shifts positions and pulls away from her.  
  
"Satine, there's something I want to ask you. Something I need to ask you. I haven't known you very long. But I do know that I love you, that I've always loved you, even before I knew you. I know that without you, I'd die. My world would be nothing. You're the sun in my sky, the song in my heart. Satine…" He gingerly reaches into his pocket, removing a small velvet box. Satine gasps, anticipating what's coming. He opens it, revealing a small, gold, diamond engagement ring. It's certainly nothing like what the Duke had given her. It was smaller, simpler, classier. And definitely less expensive. Still, it was several karats, and that was certainly more than Christian could afford. "I… how..?" Satine stammers, wondering how her penniless poet had purchased such an exquisite, expensive ring. He ignores her mumbling, and reaches out to take her hand with his own free hand. "Will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife?"  
  
Satine's eyes once more well with tears, these happy, and she opens her mouth to answer. However, just as she does so, she feels the cold hands of her illness gripping her, and she begins gasping for breath. She collapses, yet Christian manages to save her before she hits the floor. "Satine??? Satine!"  
  
Somehow, Satine manages to murmur the words, "I'm dying, Christian," before losing consciousness.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The End. Should I continue this or not? Lem'me know, please! 


	2. Goodbye

Author's Note --- I'm not Baz Luhrman. I own nothing!  
  
  
  
In The End --- Goodbye?  
  
  
  
Christian sat in the same position he'd been in since IT happened. He didn't know how long it'd been. Hours, days, months. His back pressed against the wall outside of his garret, he wipes the tears off his cheeks, not sure how longer he'll be able to take sitting here.  
  
After Satine had collapsed, Christian had certainly panicked. Not wanting to leave her there alone, he had opened his door, and just begun to scream for help. He knew all of the actors were still back at the Moulin Rouge, celebrating, so he couldn't get help from Toulouse or Satie. Finally, an older woman in her mid-thirties had heard his screams, and had brought them a doctor. And it certainly wasn't any too soon.  
  
As soon as the doctor had arrived, he'd shooed Christian out, and that is where he resided now. In his hand, he flipped the engagement ring over and over, which only caused him to begin to sob again. He finally got her again. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't. He finally rose, ready to break down the door if he had to, when the door swung open. Christian stood face to face to the doctor, gripping the ring in his fist.  
  
"Well? How is she? What's wrong? Is she okay?" The doctor glances back into the darkened room, before ushering Christian back outside with him. Shutting the door gently behind him, he sighs. "Mr. ----," he pauses, arching an eyebrow inquisitively at Christian. "Harrison," Christian supplies. "Ah yes, Mr. Harrison. I'm afraid that Mademoiselle Satine is dying. She has consumption." Christian's eyes widen in horror, and he leans back against the wall, to keep himself from collapsing.  
  
"No… no…" He swallows loudly, his worst fear coming alive. He's losing her again. For good. "No. W-What.. Th-there's gotta be something I can do. Tell me what I can do!" He demands, watching the doctor urgently. "I'm afraid there is nothing we can do. There is no cure for consumption; Not here, at least. There are a few remedies that could help her condition, but the only way for her to overcome this would be a miracle. I'm surprised she's still alive." Christian finds himself holding his breath, and he lets it out slowly.  
  
"What do I do? Tell me what to do." The doctor shakes his head, motioning for Christian to lower his voice. "Mademoiselle Satine will need peace and quiet. She can't exert herself; She must save her energy. She must not do anything physical that would take much more strength than scratching her nose. She shouldn't talk much; what she does say should be in a whisper. Despite all of this, it may not save her. Still, it will make things easier for her, and it may give her a bit more time."  
  
Christian finds himself trembling as he nods his head towards the door. "C- can I see her?" The doctor nods his head, pushing the door open slowly. "Yes. But be quiet. I'm going back home. If you need me, ask around for a Dr. Mathews. Someone will find me. Good day," he says, disappearing down the hall before Christian can thank him.  
  
Slowly, Christian enters the room, his eyes having to adjust to the darkness in the room. Straining his eyes to make sure he doesn't knock anything over and disturb Satine, he makes his way to the bed. Tears begin to fall once more at the sight of her, lying in the bed, looking so weak and pale. "Satine.. Oh, Satine.." he whispers, falling to his knees as he takes her hand in his, sobbing into the sheets of his bed.  
  
The End of yet another chapter. Tell me if I should continue, 'kay? I wouldn't wanna keep goin' if everyone hates it! And no, I'm not gonna kill her off! I can't even watch the very end of the movie when she dies; there's no way I could kill her off by choice! 


	3. Never Knew I Could Feel Like This

Author's Note --- I don't own anything. It all belongs to Baz. And Come What May lyrics are also from Moulin Rouge!.  
  
  
  
Never Knew I Could Feel Like This  
  
  
  
As the sun began to rise in Paris, streams of sunlight began pouring into Christian's garret, bathing both Satine and him in warm light. Christian's eyelids flicker as he begins to wake, groaning as he moves. He still sits at the side of the bed on the floor, leaned over to allow his head to lay on the bed. His neck doesn't seem to want to move, and when he forces it to, he immediately regrets it. Grunting, he reaches his hand back to massage his sore neck as he takes a moment to recall the night before. His gaze drifts up to the form of Satine, laying comfortably in his bed, staring at him. He jumps noticeably, obviously startled to see her staring back at him. He takes a moment, just staring dumbly at her, before he finally comes to his senses. Immediately, he jumps up into a standing position, groaning in pain at the sudden movement of his neck. However, he pays it only that brief moment of attention, before turning his attention completely to Satine.  
  
"Satine? Honey, how do you feel?" He manages to say, trying desperately to keep calm while she's awake. He can't let her see how scared he is. He must be strong for her.  
  
Satine struggles to pull herself into a sitting position, and Christian hurries to help her. "I'm… okay…" She says softly, glancing around. "I… I don't really remember what happened… I remember you proposing… Then all I can remember is black. And a doctor. And here I am…" She frowns, looking away from him. "I should've told you sooner."  
  
Christian shakes his head, reaching over to cup her chin in his hand. "Satine, everything is going to be okay. I promise you. We'll get through this. I love you. You'll get better. You'll see. Which, speaking of, you shouldn't be talking. The doctor said that if you wanted to get better, you should keep talking to a minimum, and always whisper."  
  
Satine can't help but smile at his concern. Still, she sighs sadly, turning her head away. "What does is matter? I can't get better. Christian, this isn't a fairy tale. I know that there's a slim to none chance of me getting better. So many people I knew have died of consumption. Love doesn't overcome all obstacles. You can't expect a miracle. Maybe some people get miracles, but those are people who deserve them. I'm a creature of the underworld, Christian. Miracles don't happen to people like me."  
  
Christian's eyes fill with pain as she speaks, and he shakes his head. "No! Don't talk like that! You will get better. I know you will!" He feels his strong cover-up begin to crumble, as tears make their way into his eyes. "Satine, don't say that. We'll be together forever. Come what may, remember? You're going to fly away and become a famous actress, and I'm going to become a famous writer, and we'll settle down in some small town in England and raise a family. You want that, don't you? Satine, it was meant to happen. We are going to be together." He licks his dry lips, and reaches out to grasp her hand. "You're going to get better. If not for yourself, for me. I'll die without you, Satine. I'll die. Satine…." He reaches back into his pocket, once more removing the engagement ring. "Please… Marry me," he whispers, holding the ring out to her, his eyes silently begging her to respond.  
  
Satine can't hide her tears as they escape and begin sliding down her cheeks. "Christian… I…" She forces a small smile, nodding her head. "Yes, I'll marry you. I love you. Come what may," she says softly, as he slips the ring gently onto her finger. He reaches out to wrap her in his warm embrace and she eagerly snuggles herself in, sobbing happily into his shirt. "I love you, Christian… I'll always love you… No matter what…"  
  
Christian smiles, allowing himself to forget about her current state of health, and instead focus on the fact that she was his fiancé. Softly, he begins to sing. "Never knew I could feel like this…. It's like I've never seen the sky before…Want to vanish inside your kiss… Every day I love you more and more…"  
  
And they spent the morning like that; in each others arms, singing softly to one another, basking in the warmth of their love. But, as fate would have it, the young lovers would be unable to remain so blissfully happy for long.  
  
The end for now. Tell me if I should continue or not! Leave me a review! 


	4. A Force Darker Than Jealousy

Author's Note --- Once more, no, I don't own anything, no, I am not the wonderful Baz Luhrman, no, you can't sue me! Thank you.  
  
  
  
In The End --- A Force Darker Than Jealousy  
  
  
  
The sun had risen and the day had officially begun. Eventually Satine and Christian reluctantly moved apart, and Christian began on fixing them brunch, despite Satine's refusal to being hungry. It seemed like normal times, neither one of the young lovers daring to think about the present. Instead, they seemed to be in a dreamland, both being ignorant to the facts.  
  
From the kitchen, a pot falls to the floor, quickly followed by a "Heh, you don't like eggs all that much anyway, right?" Satine giggles, covering her mouth to hide it as Christian ducks his head in to look at her. "And what is so funny, my dear? I am here as your humble servant, to present… your breakfast. Er, lunch. Eh, whatever meal you want it to be!" He then turns to reveal the plate of burnt bacon and crumbled toast.  
  
Satine begins giggling wildly again, nodding her head. "Oh, my wonderful chef, how delicious it looks! Mmmm! I simply can't wait to take a bite!"  
  
Christian arches a brow with a crooked grin on his face. "I'd watch out, mademoiselle, with that sarcasm of yours; if you're not careful, I'll make you eat this," he threatens, an evil glare in his eye. "I will return!"  
  
He disappears back into the kitchen with the plate, only to return a moment later with another plate. This one contains two pastries, which he obviously didn't make himself.  
  
"Now, your meal is served, my dear."  
  
Taking one for himself, he hands the plate over to her in the bed, as he sits on the foot of it. Satine laughs, taking the plate, but then setting it down beside her. "I'm really not very hungry," she says softly, when he gives her a hurt look. She smiles for him, and he nods, returning to his own pastry. The happy look in her eyes seems to diminish as he turns away, unable to remain so ignorant of her health as he seems to be. Still, for his sake, she still keeps up the façade of being perfectly fine.  
  
She sighs, which gains Christian's attention. "Satine? Is something wrong?" Satine looks over at him, forcing a smile. "Hm? Oh, I'm fine. I'm just thinking about the play. It was wonderful," she lies, before stretching. "I'm going to go to the bathroom. You can eat my pastry if you want. I don't think I'm going to have much of an appetite."  
  
Christian nods, still believing that things are like normal. He reaches over to grab her plate, splitting it in half in case she does get hungry later, before devouring it.  
  
Satine slowly shuts the bathroom door behind her, pressing her back against it. She had expected Christian to take the fact that she's dying hard, but she certainly hadn't expected this. It's as though last night was a bad dream. Not real. She feels her eyes well with tears at the realization that Christian was taking this so hard that he's actually in denial. She reaches out for a tissue to wipe her eyes as she feel the urge to cough take over, and she covers her mouth with the tissue instead, smothering the sound considerably.  
  
Crimson blood spurts from her throat, coating the tissue with it. As her coughing slows, she finds she's unable to breathe, and immediately regrets quieting her coughing to not get any attention from him. "Christian…" she manages to whisper, with a small breath of air she receives. Slumping to the ground, she claws at the door to try and get Christian's attention, unable to take in a breath. Slowly, she loses consciousness, her world going black.  
  
Well, how was it? Good? Bad? Let me know! ….To Be continued…. 


	5. And Stronger Than Love

Author's Note --- I'm not Baz Luhrman. He owns everything.  
  
In The End --- And Stronger Than Love  
  
Christian sat on the bed, finishing the strawberry-filled pastry that he had brought for Satine. Rising, he takes the plate back into the kitchen, setting it on the counter where numerous other dirty dishes reside. He glances towards the bathroom, frowning. Satine had been in there an awful long time. "Satine? You alright?" He calls, moving towards the bathroom and knocking on the door. He pauses, waiting for a response, but getting none. "Satine?"  
  
As he gets no response the second time, he begins turning the knob. It's a good thing no doors have a lock in his garret, forgiving the main one. "Satine?" he calls once more, before pushing the door open all the way. As he sees the sight before him, he freezes, unable to move. It takes him a good five seconds or so before he manages to react, dropping down beside his fallen love.  
  
Satine lays sprawled on the bathroom floor, her blood soaked tissue still held in her hand. A bit of blood remains dripping out of the corner of her mouth, the deep crimson contrasting greatly with her pale ivory skin.  
  
"Satine! Satine!" he begins screaming, picking her shoulders up so he can pull her to him. "Oh god, Satine!" Tears roll down his face, holding onto her tightly. "Satine." He doesn't want to let her go, but he knows he has to go find help. Given that it's not too late. He checks to make sure he can see the rise and fall of her chest before he slowly lays her back on the ground, before running blindly towards the hole he knows is in the ceiling. "TOULOUSE! TOULOUSE! SATIE! SOMEONE! HELP!" He fights back the urge to just collapse right there and cry his pain away, and instead turns to open the door to his garret wide. "HELP! SOMEBODY! GET DR. MATHEWS! SOMEBODY!" His screaming was finally met with, "Chwistian? Cwistian, what's wong? We'we coming."  
  
Christian sighs in relief as someone finally comes to his aid, and he looks out the door as he awaits Toulouse's arrival. "Hurry, Toulouse! It's Satine! She's unconscious! Find someone who can get Dr. Mathews! HURRY!" With the knowledge that help is on the way, he quickly returns to the bathroom, so he can hold his beloved, in what could very well be her last moments.  
  
Minutes later, the dwarf comes roaming into the garret. "Cwistian? Where awe you? Satie's gone to get the doctow, but whewe awe you? How is she? What happened?" Christian wipes his eyes, quieting himself from his sobs. "Toulouse, I'm in the bathroom. Satine. I. I found her.. She's dying, Toulouse. She's dying." he manages to say, before he begins trembling, the sobs erupting from him again.  
  
Toulouse appears at the doorway, eyes large and sad. "Come, Cwistian. Lets move her to the bed." Christian nods, moving slowly and ever so gently. Lifting her into his arms as he would a baby, he moves her out of the bathroom, finally laying her down on his mattress. Several of his tears fall from his face, specking over her face as he looks down at her. "My beautiful Satine.. My love.. Don't leave me. Oh god, don't leave me." He breaks into another round of sobs, dropping to his knees next to the bed. Toulouse pulls the covers up comfortably around Satine, moving her arms into a comfortable position. He stops suddenly as he sees the engagement ring on her finger, and he gasps. Glancing up to Christian, he frowns sadly, before reaching up to brush the red locks from her face.  
  
"It'll be alwight, Chwistian. This'll wowk out. You'll see." Christian glances up to Toulouse, shaking his head. "No, it won't. It'll never be alright again. She's dying. She's dying." His sobbing continues, and Toulouse sighs, turning away. "Poow Chwistian. It's howwible that the best of us all must suffer from heawtache," he whispers to himself, moving into the hall to wait for the doctor's arrival.  
  
Another end of a chapter. Well? What do you think? I need feedback, people! .To be continued. 


	6. Had Begun To Take Hold

Author's Note --- I don't own nuttin.  
  
In The End --- Had Begun To Take Hold  
  
Christian awoke the next morning to find himself curled into a small ball in the corner of the room, his knees pulled to his chest, and his arms wrapped around his lower legs. He's momentarily unsure as to where he is, but after a quick glance around the room, yesterday's events flood his mind.  
  
He remembers the doctor coming. . . Remembers Toulouse trying to pull him away from Satine. . . Remembers Satie trying to calm him down. . . Remembers yelling. . . screaming. . . trying to get back to Satine. . . And yet, they wouldn't let him. They said he was crowding the doctor. Told him to stay back. Forced him to stay back.  
  
And sometime during the long wait, he fell asleep.  
  
Christian grunts as he tries to stand, his leg muscles screaming as they are finally moved from the uncomfortable position. Stumbling at first, he begins the short walk to the bed, his fears mounting. What if she died? What if she had passed on while he slept? What if she had left the world while he was sleeping, not knowing what was going on? If his beloved passed away without him by her side, he would surely murder himself on the spot.  
  
Scared that his worst fear has come true, he stands at the edge of the bed, not looking at her. Tears begin rolling down his cheeks as he tries to brace himself. . . With a deep breath, his gaze focuses on her small, pale body. . . Oh, so pale. . . So small. . . So frail. . . and he sighs in relief as he sees the slight rise of her chest as she breathes.  
  
A small, thankful smile graces his face as he grabs one of her hands in his own. "Thank you. . . Oh God, thank you, for not taking my Satine. . ." With his free hand, he wipes away his tears, before focusing entirely on Satine. "Darling? Everything's going to be fine. We'll get through this. Both of us. And I promise. . . They are never going to take me away from you again. I'm not leaving your side, not until you're better, understand? I'm here. . . I'm right here, baby."  
  
"Chwistian?"  
  
Christian jumps, having not known that he wasn't alone in the room. "Toulouse?" As he speaks the name, the small dwarf appears from the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. "Yes, Chwistian, I'm hewe. Dwink this," Toulouse says, offering the glass to Christian.  
  
"What did the doctor say? Has she woken up? Did she ask for me? Why didn't y'all wake me? Is she going to be okay? Is there any medicine we can give her? Anything that will help her chances?"  
  
Sighing, Toulouse moves towards the other side of the bed, looking down at Satine. "Chwistian. . . She stiww hasn't awaken. The doctow said that thewe's nothing we can do. There's onwy a smaww chance that she'ww live, and even if she does, she may aways be iww. The doctow. . . Chwistian, he doesn't expect hew to wive. He says. . . He says that she pwobabwy has about two weeks weft."  
  
Christian gasps, staring at his friend, disbelieving. "No. . . No, Toulouse, you're lying to me. Why are you lying? She's going to live!!!!" Christian squeezes Satine's hand tightly, a new slew of tears coming. "But there's a small chance, right? Right? That she'll live? You said that there was!"  
  
"Yes, Chwistian. She may wive. But, just in case. . . The doctow said that you shouwd twy to make hew wast days hewe as comfowtable as possible. And that we shouwd have evewyone come to say goodbye."  
  
"No. . . No. . . Oh God, no! Please. . . Don't take my Satine. . . Satine? Satine? Do you hear me? You have to live. . . Understand? Live! You have to. . . You can't leave me. Come what may, remember? You have to be here! Your dying day is not near. . . You still haven't flown away. You've got a long life ahead of you. We're going to get married, remember? We'll have a big wedding. . . In the French countryside. With tons of flowers. And then I'll take you to London on our honeymoon. We'll have a child. . . A beautiful son or daughter, that will look just like their mother. . . And you'll become a famous actress. I'll become a famous writer. We'll celebrate our fiftieth anniversary with our children and grandchildren all around. . . Please, Satine. Live. For me. For us. Live."  
  
Christian begins to sob, sinking to his knees next to her. "Please. . . Please. . ."  
  
Toulouse wipes his eyes with the back of his hand before handing Christian a handkerchief. "Hawold and Mawie are going to be hewe in a wittle while. . . So wiww Chocowat and Baby Doll. . . The othew giwls awe coming tomowwow. . ."  
  
Christian doesn't seem to hear a word of what Toulouse said, still whispering the word 'please' between sobs.  
  
Toulouse sighs, shaking his head. Why the Gods would pick Christian to torture out of all the creatures of the Underworld, he didn't understand. Christian didn't deserve this. Neither did Satine.  
  
Taking his coat off of the chair, Toulouse silently slips out of the room, giving Christian some time alone.  
  
Okay, this chapter I really don't like. It's a whole lot of nothing, that I wrote in ten minutes. But I needed something to bridge the last chapter to the next (yes, I already wrote the seventh before even starting the sixth. I'll probably post the seventh in a day or two.) But anyway, review, please. ( Thank you. 


	7. Of Satine

Author's Note-Do I /look/ like Baz Luhrmann to you???? I know, I know. It took me way too long to post this chapter, but. . . I'm dead. The one I had originally written, I changed my mind on, and deleted it. And then I just couldn't write one I was happy with. So it took awhile. I've realized I'm incapable of writing a chapter-story. I'm going to finish this one, though, even if it kills me. Sowwy. :(  
  
In The End - Of Satine  
  
Days passed by. Still, Satine did not wake. Christian never left her alone for more than a moment, and that was only when it was completely necessary. The doctor had come and gone, each time leaving Christian more and more depressed. He was falling into a hole, and the only one who could pull him out, was laying on his bed, unconscious and dying.  
  
It had been three days since he had found his love unconscious in the bathroom. And his worry was mounting. He couldn't bear the torment of having to watch the doctor return daily, to stick her with needles in order to keep her body hydrated and nourished. He couldn't stand seeing her so pale, so motionless. . . She looked. . . No. He wouldn't think it. Couldn't think it. And yet, the word echoed through his mind, without his consent. Dead. She looked dead.  
  
He had barely slept since she'd lost consciousness. An hour here, an hour there, but that was about it. And even in those rare times he could catch a quick nap, his sleep was haunted by nightmares. Nightmares of the past. . . Nightmares of the future. . . Each one led to him in tears. The Duke was constantly in them, holding Satine, touching Satine. He had dreams of the Duke trying to rape her, dreams of him beating her, and worse. . . dreams of him murdering her.  
  
The Bohemians visited, of course. As did others from the Moulin. Harold and Marie came and went frequently now. . . Marie was such a doll. She offered Christian comfort, as if he were her child. Despite the fact that all attempts she made to comfort him failed miserably, he was still appreciative to the fact that she had made them. Still, nothing made him feel better.  
  
Another day passed. Christian was feeling dead to the world. His Sparkling Diamond still hadn't awoken, and the fear running through his veins was causing him to positively lose it. He'd fallen silent: he refused to talk to anyone, and the only time he would speak was when he's alone, just him and Satine. In those times, he spilled his heart out to her, telling her everything about him, about his past, family, dreams. . . Talking to her, even if she was not responding, not even awake, made him feel better, for some reason.  
  
Currently, he's telling her all about his relationship with his mother, of whom passed away almost two years prior. ". . .I was a momma's boy. Her pride and joy. We shared everything together. . . Even the wrath of my father. . ." His eyes begin watering, sharing with the sleeping form of his beloved something he'd never told anyone. "He beat her. . . She didn't think I knew. But I did. She was scared of him, just like I was. Whenever he'd yell at me, she'd stick up for me. And that's when he'd beat her. After defending me. It was my fault. . ." He wiped his tears away, shaking his head. "That was. . . what, ten years ago? Wow. But then, when Mom fell ill. . . he stopped beating her. She was sick for the longest time. . . About seven or eight years. . . She'd get really sick one month, then the next it'd look like she'd gotten over it. . . But that wasn't the case. . . I lost her, Satine. I lost my mother. I loved her so much. . . I can't lose you too. I can't. . ."  
  
At this point, a soft knocking on the door shut Christian up, and he quickly wiped away his tears. He made no move to open the door. Another knocking came, followed by "Chwistian, I know you'we in thewe. I'm comin' in, 'kay?" With that, the small dwarf opened the door, hobbling in with his cane. "Chwistian? How is she?"  
  
If he expected an answer, he was certainly disappointed. The talkative Christian from before had vanished, now turning into a sort of zombie. He stared, his gaze shifting from Satine to Toulouse, then back to Satine.  
  
"Chwistian, we have to tawk. Something's happened, and. . . weww, it's not good."  
  
Still, Christian said nothing, now not even glancing towards his best friend. Attention is completely focused on the sleeping beauty.  
  
"Chwistian?!? Awe you wistening? This is vewy impowtant! It's gotta do wif Satine! And if you don't wisten, hew wife may be in danger!!!"  
  
At this, Christian looks up, eyes glossed over in anger. "What the Hell do you think is going on? Her life already is in danger! She very well may die! She's been unconscious for four days! Do you think we're in here running through meadows or something? Don't you dare tell me her life may be in danger! I know that!!!!" But with that said, his anger disappears, leaving behind a sad young man. "Toulouse. . . I'm sorry. . . I'm just. . . So scared. . ."  
  
"It's okay, Chwistian. . ."  
  
"Really, though, Toulouse. Please. Tell me what you came to tell me. Is there something else wrong with her? Please, say there isn't. . ." He looks at his friend with pleading eyes, unable to hold back the look of pure dispair.  
  
"No, Chwistian. . . Not that I know of, no. But it's sewious. It's the Duke, Chwistian. He's hewe. In Zidwers office, wight now! He's demanding to see hew!"  
  
Christian's eyes bulge, and he looks as though he's about to fall over in shock. "No. . . No. . ." he whispers, his worst nightmares coming through. "No. . . He can't have her! I'll kill him before he touches her!!!!!"  
  
"Chwistian, we've got to move hew befowe -"  
  
Unfortunately, Toulouse is cut off by a high, nasally-sounding voice.  
  
"Why, if it isn't our very own penniless sitar player." 


End file.
